Burnt You A Mark
by capricious insanity
Summary: A Draco/Ron, Ron/Draco story. Love doesn’t always overcome all obstacles, no matter how great love is.
1. Chapter 1

**Burnt you a mark**

**By: Cha-11-Erise**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

His naturally wan face is tinged with red and I see those almost invisible tears roll down his cheeks.

Oh bugger.

He's crying and I'm not.

Maybe I'm the heartless one and not him. The lump in my throat grows and my body goes weak. I slowly lie down on his bed and try to focus my attention on my breathing.

And then I see his lithe back slightly tremble.

Oh bloody hell.

"Malfoy…"

He stops and turns to face me. Those silver eyes were glazed with tears and somewhere inside, a part of me breaks.

"Fuck off."

He says that but I know he doesn't mean it. He never means it. But I always do. He looks away and stares at the floor.

"Whatever happened to the rules?"

Yes, The rules. Even before we began what we now have, he had set up rules that supposedly neither of us was allowed to break.

This… _thing_ between us had started as a quick snogging session after an accident caused our flesh to collide with one another. Then escalated into our sick little fuck sessions.

At first it only lasted for half an hour, then an hour… and now… we didn't keep count anymore.

We both knew this was a dangerous game to continue but every time we broke whatever _this_ was, some time in the middle of the night we'd end up together.

"You said them so yourself, remember?"

I close my eyes and vividly recall our first night. A bitter smile is on my lips as I remember him holding my hand in a painful grip, his gray eyes locked only on mine as he recited.

_One, we never speak of this to anyone nor give them any hint._

_Two, there will be no… cuddling, no hugs afterwards. _

_Three, there must never be any mark that can be traced back to any activity between us._

_Four, there will never be love._

I want to throw those four rules at Malfoy's face right now. Always acting high and mighty, but ironically, he was the one who broke all four rules.

Not that he'd actually said that he… _loved_ me. But actions spoke louder than words, and Malfoy's spoke in great magnitude.

Sometimes I even see him staring at me, his eyes almost without emotion, but I saw the inner turmoil, a look that said _love._

"This isn't like you."

And it really isn't. Maybe he's just a copy of the real Malfoy, the one that always dominated, and the one that always won, the one that never showed me any weakness, the revolting git that stated the rules as if they were the law.

_It is as if you are the law, Malfoy._

He reaches for a cigarette on the table and lights it, and immediately, I can taste ash on my tongue.

He looks back at me; the tears now dry on his cheeks and blow the smoke in my direction. It's a bad habit of his that he knows I hate. But still, he continues. I don't feel weak anymore, but I still feel a little bit like a monster.

"You know I hate it when you smoke."

I said through gritted teeth as I begin to sit up and attempt to stand, but he pulls me down. I stop moving and stare back at him. It infuriates me that he hasn't said much, except 'fuck off'; he's usually the one blabbering on and on and not me.

"You told me to fuck off, right?"

And he gazes at me with those hurt, star-lit eyes as if his entire world had crashed. Yes. He's definitely not the real Malfoy. The real Malfoy would never look at me the way this person's looking at me now; he'd never show me how weak he could be and make it known that I was the source of his pain.

Pale and slender fingers take the cigarette from soft lips and place it between my fingers. I look at him, bewildered and annoyed.

"I don't want to smoke. I've told you that before. And if you don't mind, I'm going back to my dorm."

I tried to stand and again, his cold, smooth arms pull me down.

"I mind."

His voice almost cracks.

"What are you playing at? This is getting old."

He hesitates but eventually speaks,

"This might be the last one."

I don't stiffen but a wave of dread settles at the pit of my stomach and makes my heart beat faster. Panic, anger, regret and shame, the wave grows erratic with every recollection, and then finally, it dies inside my chest.

"This _is_ the last."

He stiffened and drew back, his hand still on my wrist. He's looking down at my arm so I can't fully see his face.

"I… I'd like to have a remembrance from you."

A smirked made its way to my lips. It's as if we had switched roles for the night, the final night. My throat threatened to clog but I still managed to speak without my voice trembling.

"I can't impregnate you."

My ears awaited a sneer, a scoff, any biting remark but nothing came. Instead, he lifted his head to meet my eyes. His hand slid across my skin and gripped the hand that still held the cigarette.

"Ron…"

My heart skips a beat.

_Ron._

It always does that when he says my name. I wonder if his heart would do the same if I called him by his name too.

"_Malfoy…"_

But I never use his name. I really don't know why, but I think if I do, I'd fall into the same hole he's trapped in.

He pulls my hand with the cigarette near his wrist, and my eyes widen a bit. Is that what he wants me to do? I try to shake him off; I don't want to hurt him more than I already have.

"Pansy would freak, especially tomorrow."

His grip tightens and his eyes begin to water. This really is our last night; he knows I would never touch him after he says those two lovely words.

Fornication is already bad enough; I'd burn myself alive if I allow adultery in my already long list of sins.

"Ron, please."

And my hand snaps like a twig under his pressure, I mark him mine for the last time and I know that in the morning, it'll still be there.

"I'm sorry."

He whispers and I leave. The image of his scarred flesh imprinted in my mind.

Then the bells ring and the wedding of the century start. The groom waits, dressed in black and white, while the bride walks joyfully down the aisle. I close my eyes and it's over. Then the reception begins and everyone is full of smiles. I straighten my back and tilt my glass, cheers to the newlyweds. I drink, I breathe, and I smile.

Smile, smile, smile.

Everyone looks, but none of them see what the smile really about. I walk, I socialize, and I laugh. All is good with the world. There are no tears, no hesitations, no goodbyes, because there is no need for them. I am free.

And he looks at me, just before the night ends. Malfoy stares at me, his frigid eyes indifferent and unflinching.

That's when the smiling ends and I finally grasp the memory of the cigarette.

I watch him inconspicuously lift his hand and gently, kiss the burned flesh, his eyes glimmer for a moment, then a second later, he is composed and shaking someone's hand, then turns again to me.

The taste of ash is in my mouth.

I had been trapped in the same hole even before it was dug. It wasn't him that was marked. It was I.

"Draco,"

My voice is soft, it's almost a whisper, but he heard.

_I love you._


	2. Chapter 2

**Burnt you a mark**

**By: Cha-11-Erise**

**&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&**

"Ron…"

There it was again, that awful dull ache inside his chest. He'd gone to the doctor several times but no one ever gave him an answer, the bloody wizards didn't even know anything.

"Ron."

They had thought at first that it was a panic attack. But when they had observed him, they merely shook their heads and suggested he see a psychiatrist since there was nothing physically wrong with him or his surroundings.

_And they thought a shrink could help? Stupid little buggers._

"Ron!"

He gave a small inaudible gasp as he was snapped out of his thoughts. Looking at Ivy, with her pale yellow hair and her worried gray eyes, gave him a soothing feeling that rested in the pit of his stomach, and somehow, the ache lessened a bit.

"Are you okay?"

She huddled closer to him on the couch, her pale hands clutching his sleeves. Ron smiled, kissed her forehead and hugged her tighter.

"Yeah, I'm alright. I was just thinking."

He paused for a bit before continuing, absent-mindedly running his fingers through her hair.

"Did you want to talk to me about something?"

She said something but it came out muffled and impossible to understand since she was almost buried in his shirt. Ron laughed a bit, and pushed her face away an inch or two.

"What?"

He asked, smiling.

"I just wanted your attention."

She tilted her head to look up at him, her eyes darting between his left and right eye, before settling on his left. She looked as if she was holding her breath, afraid that everything would be blown away from her. Her lips were a bit open, neither smiling nor frowning. She looked like she would cry. His hand moved from her hair to her cheek.

"Ron…"

She said so softly, that if their faces weren't this close, he wouldn't have heard at all. This made his heart thump madly. This pulsing heat filled his stomach and it fluttered up to his chest and ripped his heart in a painful but pleasant manner. And then she closed the gap and took his lips, her hands now up against his chest.

She tasted so much like herself but he was reminded of someone else, of long, long ago, someone with the same shining yellow hair, the same worried gray eyes and the same possessive hands.

He had to stop feeling and started thinking, of her, of roses and daisies, of everything and anything away from… _him._

The blonde pushed him and he fell on his back on the sofa, laughing gently as their lips parted. Ivy looked down on him and gave a small grin.

"I love you."

In this angle, with her long hair tied into a ponytail, she resembled _him._ And it killed his heart. He almost sobbed a small laugh and smiled.

"I love you even more."

But it wasn't Ivy's name that ringed in his mind; it was _his_, as he pulled her to him and took her breath away with his lips.

And right there, as if on cue, Harry came barging in.

"Ron, you have to hear this… Oh.."

The brunette paused a meter from the sofa, and pulled back his right hand which held two cream colored envelopes, his face turning a shade of red. He tried to smile but couldn't, so he just faced away from them.

Ron sat up and so did Ivy, he chuckled and grinned at Harry then planted a chaste kiss on Ivy before he got up and smoothed out his clothes. The petite woman looked at Harry and smiled,

"Hello, Harry."

"I'm sorry, Ivy. I thought-"

She laughed and waved his apology away.

"It's okay. You were taking so long so I thought you'd show up later."

Harry apologized again, his brows furrowing as he explained,

"I'm really sorry I'm late. I ran into an old friend."

Ron smiled and walked towards him, pulled him along on their way out,

"I'll be back soon."

That was all he said, as he pulled Harry towards the still open door and closed it with his free hand. When they were a block away from his house, he looked at Harry and at the envelope he held.

"Which old friend did you ran into?"

The redhead asked, eyeing the envelope with his name written in cursive. Harry's eyes went huge at this and grabbed his left arm as they walked.

"Open it."

Harry's tanned hand almost shoved the envelope at his chest, Ron narrowed his eyes at this and carefully opened the envelope and slowly pulled the card out.

"If this is a prank, Harry, I'll have Ivy pull all your nose hair out with bloody chop sticks,"

He plied his eye away from Harry's skeptically surprised face, and what he saw almost made him choke on his own saliva, fortunately he stopped.

"Bloody hell."

It was a wedding invitation.

A bloody wedding invitation.

A bloody wedding invitation to Neville Longbottom's wedding.

A bloody wedding invitation to Neville Longbottom _and_ Pansy Parkinson's wedding.

**Their** wedding.

It was Neville's marriage to Pansy.

Pansy's marriage to Neville.

"What the hell happened?"

The words resembled a squeaked. It was just too shocking, too unbelievable and yet, here it was, the proof that it was true, the image of Pansy in a white wedding gown and Neville in a dashing suit, hugging and laughing together as if they were small kids.

"Neville was the one who gave it to me, just as I was on my way."

The brown-haired man began, as he started walking and pulled Ron this time.

"He was smiling and was practically glowing."

Ron took one last look at the invitation before putting in back in the envelope and sliding it inside his pocket.

"Harry, how on earth did they even happen?!"

The Weasley couldn't hide his surprise and disbelief even if he tried, this was too unexpected and where and how did those two even became an item? The last time those two even exchanged words were on their wedding days.

"He told me that they'd been dating for four years now,"

Harry stated in a tone that said 'I-still-can't-believe-it-myself-even-if-it-was-the-groom-himself-who-told-me'.

"What?!"

Ron's azure eyes almost fell out of their sockets.

Four years?!

What the bloody hell-no offense to both parties-but where and how on earth could they have hidden themselves so that no one even knew they were going out?

Under a damn rock?!

"Neville was having a really hard time after Hannah Died,"

The brunette's voice was soft as he spoke, and held a sad tone. This took the surprise off Ron's face and replaced it with a somber one like Harry's. Ron's voice trembled. Even if they were never close, Hannah was a good person

"Yeah. Everybody knew that."

After some moments of silence, they started walking again and Harry continued.

"I don't know the whole story, but he said it was a year after Hannah passed away and that Pansy sent Neville a short letter about moving on."

They both stopped simultaneously. Azure orbs looked at lime ones.

"Pansy did?"

This time, Ron's face didn't hold surprise or disbelief, just another somber expression. Harry nodded and motioned for them to continue walking.

"Yeah… No one ever thought that they'd ever get divorced. And I think that included Pansy as well. Do you remember how shocked we were?"

Ron nodded. As if he could forget.

The divorce.

It was the divorce no one expected, hell; it was the divorce everyone couldn't believe.

It happened just two years after they got married. There wasn't even any rumor about them. It was a surprise to everyone. Especially Pansy.

And Ron.

An unexpected yet expected pleasant surprise, only to him though, because Pansy was utterly devastated. No one could talk to her anymore, and she never ceased crying.

He couldn't help but feel guilty for being happy, and hate himself for being stupidly naïve to think that this was it. This was his way to finally be free from his father. That they were finally going to be… together. It was a very pleasant heartbreak.

But the part of it being pleasant didn't last long, because this was only the first surprise.

Pansy desperately tried to hide the reason of their separation, but unfortunately, nothing stays hidden for long.

It was Lucius' decision.

And Draco agreed.

That was what broke Pansy's heart the most, and shattered Ron's tiny hope.

He stopped believing after that.

As to why Lucius wanted the separation, even though he was the one who made the wedding possible in the first place, Pansy broke her silence.

She was unable to have any children, and that meant failure in Lucius' eyes.

"What's the point of being married if she can't even produce an heir?"

That was what he said, and Draco didn't even protest. Not even any sign of disapproval.

The papers were signed shortly after that and poof, Draco was a free man again-for only a month or so, because a wedding took place soon after everything was settled.

It was even more fabulous than the last, not that Ron would know or care since he didn't attend the wedding. He was sent an invitation though, but he ripped it apart without opening it. He didn't need to see the bride, or the groom.

And this time, Lucius made sure that there was nothing lacking, because half a year later, Draco's new wife gave birth to a healthy baby boy.

Scorpious.

"Do you mind if we postpone our trip to the bookstore for another day?"

Ron was snapped back from his reminiscing, and almost tripped if Harry hadn't held his arm.

"Ron, are you alright? We can still go to the bookstore if you really-"

"What? I'm fine, I'm fine. I was just thinking about … something. And you were saying something about postponing?"

Harry almost laughed but coughed instead and continued to guide Ron to their destination.

"Yeah. If it's alright with you. I have sort of an errand to do."

"Of course it's alright."

Ron smiled, and looked at their surroundings for the first time in a while and then a curious look came over his face.

"Where are we going?"

"To the park."

"Oh."

"I'm guessing you still haven't memorized the place."

The brunette chuckled as they crossed the street.

"Ivy's still not done touring me."

The redhead grinned and looked at the trees around them, taking a deep breath.

"I still can't believe that you're living here-"

"It's been a year and a half already."

"And you've been with a muggle that long already."

"Yeah."

It's been almost two years since Ron left the wizarding world and settled down with the muggles. Everyone back at home were shocked, but he calmed them down by saying that it wasn't permanent, just a very long vacation.

He just had to get away from it all.

It was only until his feelings settled down permanently.

"Well, I think Ivy's great. She loves you a lot."

"She is great, and I love her."

Love. He smiled bitterly at the word, away from Harry's eyes.

It had been years already. They had become independent individuals, logical adults that thought and acted with rationality. Gone were the days that he could blame his misfortune on immaturity and inexperience.

He was already a capable man.

So _why_ is it that despite his growth in spirit, in mind and body, it was always _his _face that he saw last before slumber.

Why did he always see _that _man's image on Ivy's face? It was cruel of him, but it wasn't just Ivy, it was every woman he had ever been with after... him.

Why was he still suffering, even when he had burned that pale skin off along with his heart?

"Mal…"

He mumbled, staring blankly at the ground. He almost tripped and immediately caught Harry's attention.

"Ron?"

The said person grinned on reflex, and lightly shook his head, shaking his thoughts away.

"We're lost, aren't we?"

Harry smiled, the corner of his jade eyes crinkling in amusement.

"I know perfectly where we are. Unlike someone, I actually listen to Ivy's directions."

After some light, merry banter, they finally came upon a wooden bench, amidst the willowy trees. It was there that Harry stopped and gestured for them to sit.

They were quiet for a while, resting after their long walk, when the brunette finally spoke.

"Oh, before I forget, your Mum asked me to give this to you."

The golden boy searched for something in his bag, and finally handed him two envelopes. Ron eyed them carefully.

"These things are going to scream at me, aren't they?"

"Your Mum's might, but I don't know about the other one."

He examined the envelopes, and immediately recognized the cream colored one was from his mother. A grin immediately spread on his lips.

"I'll read this later."

He said, stuffing it inside his jacket. He then held the pale blue, fat one up, looking at every angle for any inscription. When he found none, he proceeded to slowly lift the fold and lightly ripped it open.

Harry leaned in, and watched his friend pull out a box of cigarettes.

"Who's that from?"

Ron narrowed his eyes, and then slowly shook his head. The blood was beginning to rush to his ears.

"I don't… know. There's no name"

He turned it over, and found nothing. He tilted the envelope and something heavy fell out. And what he saw nearly burst his heart, right then and there.

A shiny metal lighter, and with it, a memory he would never _ever _forget.

_Thinking of you._

The voice echoed in his head.

_You know, Weasley, for some reason, every time I look at this, I see you. In my head._

A shaky hand ran through fine, bright hair. There was no way. No, bloody way. Not after all these years, not after all he had done to make it this far.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Ron? You alright?"

Harry asked, concerned, and grabbed the fair boy's shoulder. But Ron didn't hear him, nor did he pay any attention to the pressure on his shoulder. He wasn't seeing the park with his best friend anymore. He saw himself as a young boy, shut away in a room with _him._

He was once again reliving the memory of that night, when _his _words had actually spoken the loudest.

"_I can't stop smoking."_

"Then don't."

The light skinned boy mumbled inaudibly, panicking his dear friend even more.

"_Do you know why?"_

"I don't care."

The redhead shook his head vigorously, further worrying the brunette who could only try shaking some sense into him.

"Ron!"

"_Even if it kills me, smoking is the one that I would never give up."_

Ron gradually stopped, and so did Harry.

"Ron! What's wrong?!"

But instead of the green eyed boy's voice, he heard someone else's.

"_Smoking… means I'm thinking."_

"Thinking of you."

He blindly repeated the three words, his vision finally clearing. Ron opened his mouth to continue but stopped, suddenly realizing that Harry was nearly in tears in front of him. Shocked, the redhead tried to grin but it ended up being a grimace. Harry grabbed both of his shoulders and looked at him straight in the eye.

"Ron! What's wrong?!"

The said person gasped, his eyes widening at the contact.

Oh. My. God.

He was finally back from his time trip, and was afraid of the consequence that now badgered him.

He couldn't tell, but he didn't want to lie to his best friend.

Why now?

Why in the world did he have to remember that now? And in front of Harry?! Wasn't the fact that his heart was already in flames because of that blasted memory?!

"I... I'm alright, Harry. There… I just remembered something."

"Ron, tell me what's wrong, you were almost convulsing!"

He opened his mouth but nothing came out.

He wouldn't lie, but neither would he be able to tell the truth. So he just looked away from those piercing green jewels.

"Ron, if there's anything you want to say just tell me, I-"

"I'll take it from here, Potter."


End file.
